Heartbeat
When the call comes she rushes out of bed, almost forgetting how huge she already is and losing her balance a little in the process.
She needs to get to the hospital, she needs to be there already. Why isn't teleportation something that exists? Where are her damn car keys?
Maybe she should change out of her pajamas first. Or maybe she should answer her pressing need to pee. Maybe she should call Skinner again and confirm if she heard what she thinks she heard.
She realizes she is still standing by her bed, staring at her image reflected at the mirror, hoping that that Dana Scully answers her questions or tells her what to do. It is surprisingly the image staring back at her that makes her calm down and actually think. Bathroom, pajamas off, casual clothes on, car keys, car, drive, hospital.
She wants to believe so bad that it makes her wonder what Mulder's reaction would be if he saw her now, if he were here. But he is here. He is here and she can't keep calm anymore. She can't keep believing that death is final. She can't keep believing that prayers aren't answered.
She can barely contain her tears when she gets to the hospital and asks if it's true. Who did she ask, by the way? She remembers Skinner being there, she remembers Doggett being there, but her mind is so cloudy and so hopeful and so full of emotions she can't see faces clearly. The only face she can see clearly is the one that appears in front of her when she enters the room. She can see his face clearly even through the tears that threaten to blind her. The only face she sees clearly is the face that belongs to a body that is lying down in a hospital bed instead of a coffin; a face she never expected to see again except in dreams or pictures. But is she seeing this face clearly or is it just another dream? Will she wake up suddenly at some point, proceeding to cry her heart out when she realizes nothing was real? No, this seems too real to be a dream. He really is right here and he is alive. She needs to check, she needs to make sure.
She places her hand over his heart and her own heart feels like it's going to burst. He is alive, he is breathing.
She needs more reassurance, though; she needs to check if his heart is beating. She can't trust machines to tell her that it is.
She lays her head on his chest, almost expecting to hear nothing, to find that her hopes and expectations were too high to be possible. But she lays her head on his chest and hears his heart beating so faintly one could almost miss it if one weren't paying attention. But she is paying attention because his heartbeat is the most important sound in the world right now. She is paying attention because it doesn't matter that machines are breathing for him – she can feel her head go up and down as his chest moves and that is all that matters for now.
She cries. She cries all the pain she felt in the past six months onto his chest. She holds him and promises to never let go. She lets the tears fall, she sobs, she thanks heavens, God, and whatever forces are responsible for hearing her prayers, for bringing him back to her. She has never been so thankful in her entire life. She knows his condition is not good, but there is a chance and she believes it. She has learned to believe in extreme possibilities by now.
So, she sits there and holds his hand for as long as she can. Maybe her presence will help him come back to the world of the living faster. Maybe if she wishes hard enough he will open his eyes and all her worries will be gone. She keeps one hand over Mulder's and one hand over her belly for as long as she is sitting there.
And she sits there for a long, long time. She sits there until there is a chance to save Mulder's life and, even then, she never leaves his side. She promises she will be the one to bring him back to life herself, she has to. She has to make sure he is alive and that he stays alive.
She sits there once again as she hopes the treatment is working, as she lets her tears fall freely down her face because it's no use keeping them to herself. She is praying so hard inside her head that she thinks there is no way there is no one out there listening.
And apparently she is right because he stays alive.
She can barely believe it when his fingers move against her hand, when his head moves as if he is fighting back a bad dream and is trying to wake up. She can barely believe it when he opens his eyes. And when he opens his eyes, he is plain old Mulder, the Mulder that has never left her side, the Mulder making jokes about having lost his memory because he has no idea what she has been through or what he himself has been through.
The feelings are so overwhelming that she doesn't know what to do with them. So, she just lets them come in whatever form they wish. They come in tears, they come in laughter, they come in brushing a lock of hair away from his face, and they come in random kisses to his shoulder and to his cheek.
She is never letting him go. Never.
He doesn't seem to understand anything, so he just stays there, accepting the love that is pouring out of her.
Her prayers have been answered, her second miracle happened. She has definitely never been so thankful.
At some point, he asks her to explain, but she doesn't even know where to begin. She tells him to rest and that they will talk in the morning.
She falls asleep with her head on his shoulder and a smile on her face.
